Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice) by Linda Wells

Fitzwilliam, if you had not been away; I would have come knocking on your chamber door to protect me!”
    “I have no doubt.”  He chuckled and looked at Rosalie’s face deep in sleep on his shoulder.  “At least this little girl will never be frightened of this place.”
    “She hasn’t met Lady Catherine yet.”  De Bourgh winked.
    “Hmm, so true.”  Darcy kissed his baby.  “I imagine that Rosalie’s reaction to you will be mild in comparison.”
    “I look forward to that.”  He rubbed his hands together and smiled at Mary who was regarding him doubtfully.  “No, my dear Miss Mary, wait until you meet her before you judge our behaviour.  Then you may chastise as you will.”  He offered her an arm.  “Shall we visit the gardens?”
    Mary looked at Elizabeth for direction.  “I think that I saw a covered swing outside.” 
    “Yes!”  De Bourgh instantly picked up on Elizabeth’s thinking.  “You could sit out there with Miss Darcy as I show Miss Mary around.” 
    “We could walk with you.”  Kitty suggested and started giggling when de Bourgh closed his eyes.
    “Yes, we would be happy to walk along, or would that be too many of us?”  Georgiana looked at them with wide innocent eyes, then fell into giggling with Kitty. 
    “I think, girls, that you may join me in preparing for Easter dinner tomorrow, and how we might entertain our guests.” 
    “oh.”  Georgiana sighed.  “Aunt Catherine is really coming.”
    “She is, as are Charlotte and Michael.  Come along, girls.”  Mrs. de Bourgh winked at Elizabeth, who stifled her laugh with her hand. 
    Mary and de Bourgh walked out to the garden and Darcy and Elizabeth settled onto a swinging bench.  Elizabeth leaned against his chest, and they both closed their eyes and listened to the birds while Rosalie slept. 
    “We seem to be all alone, Mary.”  De Bourgh looked up to the swing to make sure that they were not looking and lifted her hands, first one then the second, to his lips.  Mary blushed.  “Our first time alone.”
    “Yes.”  She watched his mouth as he smiled, and blinked.   “I . . . Is this right?”
    “Oh yes.”  He nodded confidently and placing her arm on his, started to walk.  Knowing precisely where he was going, he found his way behind a tall and conveniently placed hedge.  At last they were truly away from all eyes, and he lifted her fingers to his lips, then turning her hand, caressed the wildly beating pulse on her wrist.  “Oh Mary, what am I to do?”
    “About . . . what . . . sir?”  She whispered when he kissed her fingers again.
    “How am I to contain my affection for you?”  His steps ceased and he turned to face her, caressing the back of his fingers over her cheek, and watching longingly as they passed so close to her lips.  “You are so lovely.”
    “No . . . I am not at all.  You are so very,” Mary watched in fascination as his eyes grew darker and is nostrils flared, “wrong.”
    His fingers again lifted, this time to gently caress a long tendril of her slightly wavy hair.  Mary closed her eyes and she heard him moan.  “You will give me this.”  He ordered softly.  “I want this for my own.”
    “My hair?”  Her voice quavered and he caressed her cheek with his fingertips.  “Why?”
    “Peter.”  He said softly.  “Please call me by my name, Mary.”
    “Peter.”  Mary looked up to see his eyes were no longer dark, but warm and soft.  She relaxed and tentatively reached up to touch his smooth cheek.  “Peter.”  He smiled and she traced the small dimple that appeared on one side, and laughed.  “Why have you only one?”
    “One?”  He laughed.  “One what?”
    “Dimple.”  She blushed and looked down, only to have her chin lifted by his caressing thumb. 
    “I do not know.  We will have to look at my brother and see if he is the same.”  He licked his lips and laughed softly.  “Does it displease you?”
    “No, you have a